


Nobody Mentions It To You

by KitchenSink97



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Catfish - Freeform, Drabble, F/F, Freeform, Growing Up, Humanstuck, If you want - Freeform, POV Second Person, it's really vague, nepfef - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitchenSink97/pseuds/KitchenSink97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You see her for the first time when you are three, and she is a homing beacon and a candy-cane lighthouse and the big red X on your treasure map, so you glue yourself to her side and she glues herself to yours.</p><p>Ambiguously NepFef, but neither of them are referenced by name so you can interpret it as you like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Mentions It To You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for checking this out. Not my first fanfic but my first posted fanfic. Feedback/constructive criticism would be appreciated if you have any. Thanks again~

You see her for the first time when you are three, and she is a homing beacon and a candy-cane lighthouse and the big red X on your treasure map, so you glue yourself to her side and she glues herself to yours and when your mother picks you up from preschool you proudly inform her that you’re in love, and your mother says you’re charming.

The two of you become inseparable; your names are rarely heard alone and you sit together in silence because words are redundant, but you laugh aloud and if your teachers think it’s strange that you laugh at nothing, they don’t mention it to you.

You’re lucky you live in such a small town, because it means you never have to think about leaving her behind when you change schools. You go from being in preschool-love to being in elementary-school love; you sit next to each other in every class and you hold hands and walk shoulder to shoulder, and at recess you still sit together in silence because words are still redundant, but you still laugh aloud, and if the other students mutter or give you strange looks, nobody mentions it to you. 

They think you don’t notice - you do, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. You have her and she has you and if you had to you could take on the world and come out on top. Your mother encourages you to make new friends, dear, she’s happy you’re so close but surely it couldn’t hurt to talk to some of the other kids your age? and you nod obediently because she’s your mother, but you don’t try to make new friends. You don’t need other friends. You have everything you need in one person, and she is a whole world to explore and discover but she is also the home you know like the back of your hand.

You don’t realize how much you need each other until the first day of middle school, the first time you have a class that she isn’t in. You sit in the back and your eyes dart around, checking the clock, checking the door, looking for her. You feel naked, lost, adrift, and every time you glance to the right where she is supposed to be _(she’s always there where is she where is she missing lost need to find her need to find her where where where)_ to make a private joke or a sarcastic comment and see someone else you feel like you’ve missed a step going down stairs. You push your way out of the classroom as soon as the period ends, moving blindly through the throng of bodies, searching, desperate, until you crash into a torso and a pair of arms wrap around you and you cling to her and you shake and she cries and you skip your next class to huddle together under a table in the empty art studio, and you sit in silence because words haven’t stopped being redundant, and you cry until you start laughing aloud, and if anyone notices the two eleven-year-olds smearing paint on their hands and their faces and the wall, nobody mentions it to you.

In seventh grade you discover makeup and call it warpaint, and you give her whiskers and she gives you scales and the other kids say you’re strange and call you names, and you walk with your arms brushing but you don’t hold hands because they don’t matter but they can still take your things and get you in trouble, and you still sit next to each other in every class and you don’t pass notes because that would be silly, and on breaks you sit together in silence because words have only become more redundant, but you don’t laugh aloud anymore because your teachers give you concerned looks and your mother makes quiet phone calls with words like “psychiatrist” and “medication” and people definitely think there’s something wrong with you, even though they don’t mention it to you.

In high school you have different schedules again, and your mother says not to worry because you’ll still see her between classes and it will be good for you to make new friends, and really the amount of time you spent with her was a little unhealthy, and you nod obediently because she’s your mother but being pulled apart pushes you closer. Instead of making new friends you glue yourself closer to her side and she glues herself closer to yours because being apart means I and she and we are no longer the same thing and that is _wrong_ , so you both skip classes and ditch school and sit together in silence because words have never been so redundant, and you laugh aloud again because you don’t care if there’s something wrong with you, you don’t care if it’s unhealthy, the world just can’t handle your sharp-edged perfection. And if the people in the park are afraid of the girls who laugh at nothing and wear whiskers and scales and dance until the grass stains their feet green, nobody mentions it to you.


End file.
